


Dusk Till Dawn

by StellaOquvist21



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, College, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gay, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Magic, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Original Fiction, POV Multiple, Please Don't Hate Me, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Discovery, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Thriller, this is my first fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:34:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28014771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellaOquvist21/pseuds/StellaOquvist21
Summary: A young woman struggles to find who she is as the darker corners of her past present and future being to be illuminated.  She must find meaning in an unfamiliar world as she fights the changes forced upon her.This was meant to be a graphic novel but I adapted it with my shitty writing. Have fun. chapters should be 1-2k works each. I want to have 15 chapters total in part one. And part 2 might just be a separate thing all together. This fic is a slow burn btw. Spell check? I dont know her





	1. Issue #1 The Comfort It Provided

**Author's Note:**

> I don't write. So this should be interesting but im trying and someday I shall turn this into a comic book like it was meant to be.

——Stellas POV——

I pull up the weathered road, a thin layer of dirt blankets the otherwise black cement as the warm lights of my childhood home appear in the distance illuminating the long, familiar driveway. I pass through the old fence that still surrounds the house I grew up in; a castle wall keeping monsters out when I played in my treehouse and chased my dog as a child. It was the barrier of wonder as I daydreamed on cool grass, the prison gates keeping me in as I watched the rest of the world turn, and my life stood still. It was the finish line, when I packed up and moved away. As I pass through, the emotions of [insert emotions here] swirl through my mind. All the moments are held hostage in the old metal poles. stories screaming to be remembered and locked away in its history. Somehow this landmark feels like more of a reminder than a welcome.

A shiver runs down my spine, and I slow my bike; it quickly descends from a growl to a hushed purr. I park by the edge of the fence, the rough heat of the engine lessens as I pull my keys out from its ignition. My grey boots brush over the warm leather seat as I step over. I toss my helmet to the side and hear it clatter against the stones of the fence as my hair falls down around my face.

I'm late. Again. The recurring excuses I make sound like cliches, but I am genuinely busy. It's been hard managing it all, every individual aspect of my life. So many people are counting on me, _I'm_ counting on me for so much. Though I usually have no problem with keeping busy, lately there is an emptiness in the clutter. 

Yellow light peaks from beneath the front door, it invites me in, creating a thin spotlight for the stone steps that lead up to the entrance. I pull out my cell phone to check to see if any notifications have appeared. I hope to stall by responding to any texts or calls, or maybe even scroll through social media, but as I look at my small screen the only thing I see on the sleek black canvas of my dead phone is my disappointed reflection. 

The moon sits hovering atop the house, full and bright. When I was little I was told it was watching over me. I now know that's not true, but the ingrained feeling of comfort it provided still remains. It's nights like this one when part of me wishes I still lived in the valley, even a harvest moon this big is hard seen through the thick ocean fog and busy lights of the city. I appreciate the busyness of it all though, the people, the food, the art, and culture. Within the tall buildings, each small window is a portal to some other life--other people with ambitions and loves and fears and stories. There are thousands of other people whose lives I walk by every day yet somehow those numbers don't scare me, they let me find meaning in being small, but I'll always have a place in my heart for the rural life and the simplicity it provides. Maybe someday I'll move back, just not anytime soon. Definitely not soon. Standing on the first stone step, I peek through a window to find my parents and aunt sitting at the dinner table deep in conversation. I can hear the faint sound of electric conversation through the thick brown door. I inhale, turn the handle and step inside.

——Theodora's POV——

Sitting legs crossed at the long dinner-table I lean back in my chair, staring into the eyes of my older sister, visually acknowledging whatever it is she's saying, whilst not hearing or caring about a word she says. Is that spinach in her teeth? I'll tell her when she stops barking at me. 

Given my profession you'd think I'd behave more maturely, but somehow my older sibling always finds a way to annoy or bore me. Family dinner is only once a month, but I know it's important that we keep these meals going. It's important we are here for each other, it's especially important to me that Stella sees we can continue to be present for each other. 

The man who over two decades ago gave my sister that ring on her finger still sits patiently next to her, admiring her. A part of me longs for that type of comfort. The ability to be my annoying competitive, sometimes crazy self and know there will always be someone by my side. I often feel my admiration for my sister quickly turns to jealousy. Though, I won't deny it, I am still young and right now I need to focus on what age won't wait for. My career and my studies. Working at the university has been rewarding, It's a steady paycheck and a way to conduct my own research while avoiding having to scrape out personal time. I can use the students, supplies, facilities as I please, and I'm paid for it all. When I graduated with my PhD from Berkley, I was offered a space to continue my studies under my third year professor,and continue working on my thesis, but I figured a change of scenery was best, and the University of San Francisco is close to my family as well as close to the ocean. 

The single headlight of the all too familiar motorbike snaps me back to reality as it makes its way up the moon-lit road. I take a peek at my watch and check the four digits I wrote on a sticky note earlier in the evening. "Looks like you win." My sister stops her rant in shock of my interruption and admitted defeat. 

The older woman's confusion is evident. "Excuse me?" 

"Stella's here. You said she would be an hour late, I said thirty minutes." I nod toward her husband, "Gabe said she would be on time… It is now 8:48, almost fifty minutes past dinner time. Congratulations." I smirk as I walk to greet my niece at the door turning my back to the table. I hear my sister curse me under her breath and a faint chuckle escapes my brother in law. 

I stand by the door peeking out the window, my breath fogging up the cold glass as I wait to hug attack the younger girl. I watch my niece park and walk up to the door, hesitating before pushing down the handle. Something about seeing her reinvigorates the night. Although, who can blame me, she's the younger sibling I never had, yet was always there, we watched each other grow up and there was a while when the three of us: me, my sister and her, were all we had. I'd say my older sister practically raised the both of us there for a while. The shorter girl steps in the door and I make my move, jumping out from behind the door catching her in surprise and lifting her off the ground. It's been too long since I've seen her and the satisfaction from the hug is tangible. Though she would never admit it, I know the physical affection was as necessary for her as it was for me. I release her from my arms and step back to get a better look, a grin forms ear to ear at the sight of the brunette "Hey L." Stella rolls her eyes at use of the nickname. "How nice of you to join us" I look down at my watch to further antagonize the girl, "right on time too." Stella looks up at me clearly surprised and happy to see me, but the mask of irritation takes hold. God forbid she plays along. 

Stella removes her leather jacket and hangs it on a post by the door, the dark tough material atop my beige coat. "Okay Theo, very funny I get it I'm allwayssss late." My niece makes her way into the kitchen grabbing a plate and continuing her tortured entrance. I sit back down enjoying the scene. "It's nice to see you too. And hey! Please!" Stella moves across the kitchen and over to her seat, shaking her head and running her left hand through her long golden brown hair. She combs through one more time parting it to the side (a nervous tick of hers I've noticed over the years). "I haven't been called L since like the sixth grade so please." She blushes and I can't help but smile at the adorable defense mechanism. "Just Stella is fine." Sitting down she lets out a quick huff of air from her nose, her mouth already stuffed with food," Who won this time? Just tell me it wasn't mom again. How does she always know how late I'll be? I swear that woman is tracking my cell phone." Stella pours herself a glass of water, drinks the entire glass and asks again. The table watches in amusement. "Well, Don't pretend like you didn't place bets. You forget I know you just as well as you know me." Stella’s magic power is she's always able to lighten up the room, and I don't mean to say that she's always fun to be around, or even that she's a casual girl. In fact, sometimes the very lightness I'm thinking of is evidence of her emotional immaturity, but she's young and it has its much needed place in the family. Adults have a way of forgetting to be silly, forgetting to relax and have fun and be a mess. We push those wants away because new needs have taken their place. Stella just oozes this pure naivety and ambition, an overall… vibe, that just brightens any room. Somehow when she's here we can all indulge in our more youthful tendencies, it's liberating. I wish we saw more of that side of her. 

I look over at my sister and back at Stella, "she won. Guessed you'd be an hour late, so you haven't completely lived up to the expectation." We roll our eyes in unison. 

"I can't believe it, what is this like four months in a row?" She locks eyes with her father. "Is she tracking me?" She puts down her fork and leans in closer over the table. "You can tell me. Blink twice if she's bugged my phone." Gabriel blinks rapidly. "I knew it!" She moves over to her mother. "What else do you cheat at? I bet it's board games too, I haven't won a single game against you since kindergarten! None of us have!" The table erupts in laughter, and stories of all the times we were individually destroyed in all areas of competition with the older woman begin to be shared. 

After a while, the conversation dies down, and my brother-in-law clears the table, leaving just us girls to chat. I truly am only interested in her life and I know my sister feels the same, though,I am all too familiar with the uncomfortable feelings that come with familial interrogation. But I can't say I feel much pity for the youthful girl about to be in the hot seat across from me.

  
  



	2. Issue #2 Contrast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning there is blood but its not bad at all

2 ——Stella ’s POV ——

Almost as suddenly as the conversations started, they dwindled off into silence. There is a pull in focus, and I know I've avoided being the center of attention for far too long. My dad grabs some dishes off the table to start cleaning things up. The action is innate, like the room we sit in is a stage and the dinners we partake in are just the same scenes repeated over and over. He knows his cues, and seamlessly exits stage right to the kitchen. Unlike the rest of my small family, my father is an artist, and is probably the only person in the room who can understand the torment that is living with nerds. Growing up only a few years apart from my aunt and being raised by an MIT graduate I was always being pushed into STEM. Honestly I still am, I never understood why I was never into science, but I'm glad that I take after my dad. There are few people I love more than him… there are no people I love more than him. Remembering my phone lifeless in my pocket I break the tension and begin to move into the living room to grab a charger. Before I manage to turn away I feel a warm hand on my shoulder and my sad attempt at escape is interrupted. 

“So Stella how’s school?” my mom looks over at me, obviously upset by the appearance of my device. I slip my phone back in my pocket. 

I roll my eyes and take a deep breath, plopping back into my chair. Looks like I won’t be leaving this table any time soon. I respond, facing my mother and trying to maintain a smile through the irritation. I’ll keep my answer short and sweet, hopefully they’ll get the memo that I’m not in the mood to have my life examined. If I wanted their opinions I would freely share. You would think that the very fact that they have to corner me once a month to get any answers would hint that I don’t want to talk about it. You would assume that two scientists, or at least the one with a god damn PhD in psychiatry would pick up on my irritation, but yet they remain clueless. That or they just don’t care. I let out a small sigh. “Um I mean there isn’t much to say. It’s good. It's school. Same as last time.” My voice trails off. “It’s a lot of work, but that’s what I signed up for.” Annoyance takes over, I smile, hoping the passive aggression shines bright and strong. I look down, mindlessly tapping my finger on my leg. 

Theo catches my hand under the table and gives it a squeeze. The affection is kind but unwanted and I pull away. She doesn't seem to mind. “Good. You know I have your roommate in my class. She’s very bright.”

Ashley, my best friend, I can talk about her all night. “Oh, weird I didn’t know that. Yeah, she’s the best. I'm sure she’s enjoying your class.” 

Theo laughs “I hope so, I don’t think she has connected the dots that we are related yet.”

I start to add something more but my mom interjects. 

“How's the job Stella?” 

“It's the same as it's always been mom. It’s fine.”

“Do you still work part time at that other  _ place _ ?” She gives me a stern look and I hear Theo let out a faint chuckle.

I quit over a month ago. She knows this, she is the one who convinced me. Really she forced me. Thanks for remembering Mom. I smile, more irritation taking hold. “Nope.” I lean back in my chair, the questions would go on and on.

“Do you still fight? You know you shouldn't do that, don't want to damage that pretty little brain of yours.”

“It’s not  _ fighting _ . We’ve been over this. Just because I work out at a boxing gym does not make me a boxer. It’s completely safe okay? And I enjoy it there, not that you really care.” Theo kicks me in the shins under the table, a painful consequence for the snarky remark. 

The questions go on and on. I resume the tapping of my fingers. 

“How are your classes?” 

Tap tap tap 

“Any interesting ones?”

My tempo increases 

“Hows your apartment” 

And increases 

“Do you have any new ideas for your portfolio?” 

And increases 

“I don’t like that bike of yours. It’s death on two wheels.” 

“You should really buy a car.”

Okay that’s enough, I stand up from the table pointing at the invisible watch on my wrist “Oh look at the time! This has just been such a fantastic conversation I guess I lost track! Got to get heading home. I need,” to not be here, “sleep, and i’m sure my roommate.. Ashley.. Is wondering where I am. Sorry I have to leave, but you know how driving is back to the city. It’s getting late, so I should head out.” Stepping away from the table I go over to hug my startled family goodbye. I don’t let them try and reason with me to stay, or if they do I block them out. I grab my jacket hanging by the door and slip it on as I walk into the brisk night air. A shiver runs down my spine as I bounce down the old steps. The questioning tonight was harmless, I know and I don’t want to be dramatic. I just feel this tightness--a vulnerability that surrounds me when I'm with them. It’s like I'm being examined and the more they find the easier I'll break. As I approach my bike I grab the key from my pocket, slipping through its metal loop and spinning it around my finger. I love the way the wind feels as I glide through traffic, I love the freedom that the speed brings, the almost musical noise of an engine. The slick black design and independent travel it provides me. 

I lift my leg over my bike. Dragging it a few feet away from the fence I grab my helmet in one hand and turn the key. I know motorcycles are dangerous, but I’m a safe driver and so far nothing has happened. Plus a little danger in life never hurt anyone.  The engine starts up and stops. It's an odd behavior, I don’t think I’ve ever had trouble with my bike before. After a few more tries the old Kawasaki moves forward. The bike picks up speed, too much speed. Way way too much speed. This isn’t going to end well. I break only to stop way too suddenly and be thrown over the handlebars into the fence, my face pushes up against the gate. I groan and move to lay on my side. The sting from the fence flows through my head when I move to sit up. “Shit-Seriously?” I push myself up with my hands and dust off my jeans. Sitting up now I lean against the fence. I can feel my heartbeat in my forehead, and cautiously move a shaky hand to my wet hairline. Thick warm liquid oozes to my fingertips; the world spins. I look at the red against my pale skin, a beautiful and painful contrast. A blurry Theo runs down the stairs, and the world goes dark. 

  
  



	3. Issue #3 Country Roads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lol a lil more spooky finally. Warning that this entire story is a slowwwww burn but the action will come I promise.

—— Theos POV ——

After Stella made her speedy exit, my sister beckons her husband and I decide to bring the few remaining glasses and silverware to the kitchen, not wanting to intrude on their conversation. I roll up the sleeves of my shirt and start to wash dishes in the large silver sink. Zoning out for a minute I stare out the window at the star filled sky, my hands move mechanically under the hot soapy water. Out of the corner of my eye I see a series of pitiful events. My niece (what I can only assume) decides to drive head on into the fence. I laugh a little at the comedic scene. It takes a second before I realize…. that Stella drove into a fence. I drop the dish soap and run to open the door. Moving down the stairs and across the driveway to kneel beside her, a concerned laugh escapes my lips. I shake the unconscious girl.”Stella.” She stirs. “I told you that bike is a death trap.” I shake her lightly again, “Stella hey” She opens her eyes. I try to help the girl to her feat, Stella just winces in response. 

“I can do it” she mumbles. Classic, no help ever needed.

A series of diagnostics run instinctively through my brain. Eyes checking for all the possible needs of the small head wound. Stella stands up slowly and I force my arm around her waist helping her back into the house. 

Gabe jogs over, “Is she okay?” He addresses me.

“She'll be fine.” 

He pulls the bike to the front of the driveway stopping next to us. “I’ll have it looked at and drive it down to you in a few days.”

“You don't have to do that” Stella replies, “I’ll get a ride up here an drive it back myself.”

“No really, it’s no problem, no problem at all Stells. plus it gives me an excuse to ride again. Gross don’t get any blood on my couch Stells!” He winks and rolls the bike to the side of the house. 

I make a trip up to the bathroom grabbing what I need out of the old first aid kit before re-entering the living room with my keys, coat and supplies. I see my niece eye the rubbing alcohol and tense up--probably ready to convince me she is immune to all infection and doesn’t require any help of any kind. Sitting by Stella , I pinch her chin and move her head to the side to get a better look at the cut on her forehead, “You don’t need stitches, but please let me clean this up, and for the love of god wear helmet next time.” 

“I’m fine.” Stella swats my hand off of her face. There is no way I’m letting her get off this couch with just a bandaid. “And give me a break you sound like mom, I had my helmet okay I just didn’t have it  _ on _ . I was going to put it on. I just didn’t have it on when I needed it.” She looks up at me, her reasoning is so innocent and childlike. I know I’ve caught her in a mistake, but I can’t help but immediately forgive her. 

I manage to clean the cut with minimal whining, and persuade her to let me drive her home. “Please stop by my class tomorrow. I know you won’t see your doctor so do me a favor and at least let me check.” 

Stella yawns, “seriously I’m fine, you worry too much.” She doesn’t worry enough. “I can call a cab, but If you're insisting on driving me, then we should go, it's getting late.”

Climbing into the front seat of my trusty automobile we start the drive back to the Bay. I look out the window at the blur of dark green that passes by. I remember a time where these drives to the city together were a regular thing. A lot has changed in the last couple years, I wonder if she’s forgotten how close we all were. How close  _ we _ were. I look over at the girl in the passenger-seat, obviously hyper focused and enveloped in some interesting train of thought. She notices me staring and looks over at me funny, pressing the ice pack tight to her head. “Are you okay?”

“Theo for the hundredth time, I’m fine.” 

“What are you thinking about.”

“Nothing.” She pauses and I cansence a reluctance before furthering her explanation. “ It’s just... you know. I remember when you were my main form of transportation.” Now I’m even more concerned. Stella sharing and emotion? She spots my disbelief. “ Humor me okay. I’m feeling nostalgic.” 

“You must have hit your head harder than I thought.” She laughs. The full moon's light comes down in slices through the trees. We turn on the radio and sing our heads off, speeding down the winding open road for the last hour. It’s nice, this, being with her. I know somehow that something hasn’t been right. I guess it took a knock to the head for her to open up a bit. My eyes dart from the dark road to my niece, suddenly something moves into view. 

My heart stops. I slam on the breaks. The car skids to a noisy stop. Stella jerks forward. The old seat-belt doesn't lock in time and the small girl flies against the glove compartment. I look over at Stella, my eyes wide in terror. I tug at my seatbelt and try to catch my breath. Stella looks over at me and then back out the window. Before I can stop her and grab her arm, she unbuckles and steps out of the car. “Stella! Don’t go out there.” Trying to click my seatbelt free I find that the lock is stuck. “Stella! Come back here. Don’t be stupid. You could get hurt. Be careful.” I tug on my safety belt, “Stella! Wait!” all I can see is her silhouette leaning down. She disappears out of sight from underneath the front of the car. She’s so reckless, my mind is racing with anger and I pull at my seatbelt trying to break free. All I can hear is my heartbeat pulsing in my ears as I wait for her to give me some sign that she's alright.

“Oh my god... Theo!” A pained yell from my niece breaches the dark silence. Adrenaline kicks in and I yank myself free from the seatbelt. When I open the door and walk around to the front of my car all I see is my niece sitting on the ground. Furiously I yell at the girl, “Did we hit something? What was it? Are you hurt? Why did you run out here? That wasn't safe Stella that was really stupid! We could have hit a bear or a fucking mounton lion Stella.”

Quietly and with eyes wide in confusion she looks up at me, “What?” we sit for a moment in full silence, the radio still buzzing in the running car. “It was here but. I cant see. I can't see it.” tears begin to stream down her face. I stand still, my heart racing waiting for her to make some sense. “whateverwe hit, it musthaveleft.” The slurring is alarming and my anxiety grows. “I didn’t see.” she grabs her head and shakes the memory clear before looking up at me again. “ I don’t remember.” 

“What, stella you're not making sense. I kneel down, noticing the small dent on my bumper. Proof of what happened. “That’s not possible. We would have seen if they or if it left. You must have seen.” 

Her voice is tired and confused, and my worry grows stronger. “I don’t remember.” 

I put a hand on her shoulder and wipe away her tears. “I'm not mad. It's okay.” I reassure the exhausted girl. I shouldn't have yelled before. Of course she ran out,she thought we hit someone. “Were okay. It was probably a larger animal, it would be fine if it ran off that quickly. Looks like my car got the worst of it.” 

  
  



	4. Issue #4 Glow

—— Stella ’s POV ——

I close my eyes and try to reimagine what just happened, still lost in the numbness of it all. Why can’t I remember? Maybe Theo is right… maybe it is my head. I can feel it throbbing even now, but I can’t shake the feeling that I know what I saw. It’s like the memory is so close to the surface but I can't reach out and grab it. I put pressure on my head using the rag that held my ice pack. We drive the rest of the way with little conversation. I try to focus on remembering what I saw while fighting back a steady stream of silent tears. Maybe I’m just tired? I bet it will come to me tomorrow. I shift my body over to the window and jump at a surprising sting I feel in my leg. Suddenly the feeling is overwhelming and I can see a small dark pool of blood just below my knee. I quickly avert my eyes knowing I’m bound to pass out if I let myself look any longer. I hate the sight of it. Of-- I must have fallen or scraped my leg against the ground and not noticed. I wince as we make a sharp turn into my apartment complex.  
Theo most I have heard me too because I feel my aunt look me up and down. Eyes drifting down to where my hand hovers over my leg. I quickly shift my body away from the glare, but it’s not fast enough, she already knows.   
“It’s nothing. Theo. Really I swear it’s not that bad.” I start to get up from the seat and thank her for the ride, but the pain gets the best of me and tears stream down my face.  
Theo reaches for my hand and I pull it away. She gasps and tightens her hold on the steering wheel.“Stella that is not fine. You know why you can't feel it Stells, because you're in shock.” She turns the engine back on and starts to pull out, “you're coming home with me. Call your roommate.” Her voice is commanding and I know that an argument would be pointless. I comply, grabbing my phone from my pocket.   
When we arrive at her apartment my aunt walks around the car opening the passenger door to help me out. She pauses before I exit.“Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Stella, I’m a doctor, and I love you, it’s my job, in more ways than one, to notice.”   
“I’m sorry.” but I didn’t even know I was hurt until recently.   
She silently accepts my apology and I allow the help of her arms, leaning against her side as we walk to the door. 

Entering the one bedroom apartment I’m led over to a chair in the kitchen and told to sit down. Her tone of voice is robotic and I sense her shift from family to business. Theo disappears into her room reappearing as she throws a pair of gym shorts at me, I’m instructed to trade them for my jeans. I hobble over to the bathroom, limping like some sad puppy. As I move to change into the black athletic shorts I can feel the skin tight material of my jeans fused with my leg. I peel it off slowly, it prolongs the pain but I can’t bring myself to rip it off. The bloody jeans strip off the tender area of torn skin. Fresh blood fills each inch I tear. I hate blood. I hate when Theo mothers me, almost as much as I hate when she’s disappointed in me. I already know this will be a long night, one of which I won’t be escaping.   
When I leave the bathroom I sit back down at the small table in the kitchen. Theo pulls a chair up next to me motioning for me to prop my leg in her lap. She pushes her hair back into a tight ponytail and reaches for my leg. The next minutes are spent busy poking and prodding around the gashes. I’m too preoccupied digging my nails into my chair to pay much attention to the details of what she's doing. She touches a particularly sensitive spot and I can’t stop myself from giving into the pain. I grab the side of the table clenching it in my fist until my hand is white. My whole body goes tense, as I make eye contact with her. I see her read my reaction. Theo stops. She reaches for her bag and before she can say anything, I interrupt, my jaw clenched. “Please no.” I plead. “No hospitals, please.”   
“This isn’t a debate.” She reaches for her phone.   
The water building in my eyes finally overflows and tears escape me. “If tomorrow you think I need it you can pin me down and call an ambulance!” In the most pathetic tone I beg my aunt, “Please just let me have tonight.” The thought of a hospital makes me nauseous, and I can physically feel the color draining from my face. She must have noticed too because she, surprisingly, gives in to my request.  
“Fine!” Theo drops her phone on the table raising her arms in defeat. “But if I think you need to go to the hospital tomorrow I’m taking you. There will be no guilting me, and no arguments.” Theo exits the room grabbing ice, and what looks like a bottle of vodka.  
“Am I that annoying?” I eye the alcohol in shock.   
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, but this sadly isn’t for me.” She passes me the bottle. “Natures pain medication.” I happily take a swig of the clear liquid coughing a bit at the burn it leaves in my throat. The older girl watches my experienced drinking with great disappointment. “Someone's self medicated before it looks like.”   
I smile, “That was actually my major before I switched to art. I wanted my PhD but I had to stop. I was just too good. It wasn't challenging enough.” I laugh, amused by my own humor and take another sip. Theadora tries to hide her smile, but I see one peak through her serious demeanor. She gently cleans and wraps the gash on my leg, careful to not irritate the cuts as much as possible. Satisfied with her work, she hands me some Advil. I pop the three small pills in my mouth dry swallowing them before she can hand me the glass of water on the table. Theo starts cleaning up and exits into her room. I sit and debate on whether I should sleep in this chair or risk walking over to the other room. If I move onto the floor I could army crawl to the living room, roll over and use my arms to lift myself onto the couch, or I could hop. That would probably be easier. I prepare myself to stand up, leaning against the chair. Just as I move to make my first hop I feel arms wrap around my side. I accept the help for the second time tonight and we walk over to the small piece of furniture.   
I lay down and Theo sits to the side of me placing my legs on her lap. She reaches for the book resting on the side table and turns on the TV to some news channel. My eyes feel heavy and a sudden overwhelming sense of exhaustion takes over. Falling asleep is easy once the pain subsides and slowly the glow from the television disappears into the night.


End file.
